


hiding in plain sight

by oceanburned



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanburned/pseuds/oceanburned
Summary: a mysterious magician keeps breaking into the local magic shop and leaving gifts. local magic shop attendant wonders why he won't just ask her out already.for love like yours arcana fest.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana)
Kudos: 21





	hiding in plain sight

On the third night of the Masquerade, Delilah decided she’d had enough. 

Daylight was beginning to peek over the horizon as Delilah arrived back at her Aunt’s shop. The canal water glittered in the sunlight, stifled in places by discarded fabric that had been tossed by drunken party-goers in the heat of the moment. There was even a person floating downstream, shouting out the bawdy lyrics to a sailor’s chant and throwing wilting rose petals at people who passed them on the street. 

The door to the shop was unlocked so Delilah pushed it open and entered speedily, trying not to let out any of the warmth. She could hear her aunt snoring softly upstairs, undisturbed. Once she’d locked up, Delilah was ready to collapse into her own bed and sleep the entire day away to prepare for the next night of festivities. But when she dropped into her sheets, in her tiny bedroom at the back of the shop, something sharp poked at her stomach. Rolling over, she dug around for whatever had attacked her and pulled it out over her head. The pinkish dawn light coming in through the dusky window revealed a wooden carving of a dragonfly. 

Modelled after her Masquerade mask for that year. Her fingers brushed over its edges, still tied to her face.

She had two other statues in the same style, all the size of her hand. One was a butterfly, like her outfit for Masquerade two years ago; the other a fish, like her rainbow fish mask from the year before. Getting up, painstakingly, Delilah put the dragonfly with the other two on a shelf over her bed. She knew who the gifts were from. The only problem was that he hadn't given them to her. The statues had been left on her bed every night of the Masquerade since it started. 

And Delilah had had enough.

She'd met Asra at the Masquerade three years ago. Then, she’d thought that would be the end of it, but a year later, they’d met again and spent the whole week and a half of celebrations together. Maybe foolishly, Delilah had expected she and Asra would just magically reconnect at the current Masquerade. However, three days in and there was no sign of her fellow magician, save for the trinkets appearing in her bed. 

So, on the eve of the fourth day, Delilah awoke refreshed and ready for a hunt. It was her turn to take care of her aunt’s stall in the market near the Palace, but she only had to run it for a few hours before she could peruse the Masquerade at her leisure. The hours of selling ingredients and herbs and making charms flew by, Delilah always just aware of the crowd that flowed through the palace gates, searching for that familiar mass of white hair. By the time she’d finished her shift, Delilah hadn't spotted Asra at all. Which she supposed was a relief. If she had lost him in the Palace, she might have never found him again.

After closing up the stall, Delilah was determined to spend the rest of the night looking for Asra. She thought he was distinctive enough: white-haired and beautiful, every year appearing with a hand-crafted, fox-shaped mask. Delilah sifted through the crowds, always half on the lookout for Asra while she tried out foods at booths and pulled out swathes of glittering fabrics to examine. 

While she was listening to a rowdy young man in all black sing on a table beside one of the canals, she swore she saw Asra ducking through the gathering. But when she ran after the figure, they rounded a corner and disappeared.

Later, while she was taste-testing delicacies from the South, she saw a shock of white hair and practically threw her money down on the booth before chasing after it. But, again, the hair vanished into the crowd.

Back near the palace, Delilah wandered through the stalls, picking at costumes she could buy for the next year. She was reluctant to go into the palace proper and experience it for the first time in years without Asra, so clung to the outskirts. It was there, by the palace gates, that she thought she saw him again, a flash of purple and white and gold. The figure, almost certainly Asra once she looked closer, was crouched by the foot of the gates. People gathered around him, keeping a slight distance, as he brought water and dew from the grass up into the air and performed what she could only describe as a midair, water-puppet show. The vague shapes of animals wobbled through the air in a smooth and graceful dance. Delilah watched mesmerised before she remembered herself and started forwards, pushing through the crowd towards him. 

“Asra?” she called, over the ching of colliding coins being thrown at Asra for his tricks. At the sound of his name, Asra jolted upright, the water-puppets collapsing into a wet pile on the grass and splashing those in the front row. Beneath his mask, a wooden fox-face painted white, his face was deeply flushed. He threw himself to his feet and struggled through the crowd, who were still stunned at being soaked. Delilah faltered for just a moment before she burst over to give chase. 

Asra was slippery, dodging huddles and ducking down side-streets, but Delilah was just as determined to catch him. Try as he might, he wouldn't shake her. At least, that was what she had hoped. She had been just on his heels down one of the quieter roads, where couples were riding gondolas down a wide canal, when she tripped, toppling sideways into the water. With a scream, she crashed into one of the gondolas, throwing both her and the couple in the boat underwater. 

When she re-emerged, gasping for air, Asra was nowhere to be seen. 

Delilah dragged herself back onto dry land, discouraged and soaked to the bone. With a wave of her hand, she dried off herself and the drenched couple she had upended. The trudge back to the shop was excruciating. Though Delilah attempted to look for Asra, her hope had drained. She racked her brains for something she might have done wrong, to make Asra not want to see her again. Nothing. 

When Delilah shoved open the door, the shop was dark and slightly chilled. Her aunt hadn't returned yet. As she slid further into the room, she focussed her energy into her palm and illuminated the apartment with a small, floating fire. She used it to light the lanterns around the room. She was about to start up the stairs to put the kettle on, when something banged in her bedroom.

“Ouch!”

Delilah flinched, hand curling tight around the bannister. There was another bang from the back room, and Delilah was striding across the room towards the sound. Swinging open the door, light flooded in behind her, illuminating everything in flickering orange. There was Asra, in the middle of the room, leaning over the bed, clutching the back of his head. In the other hand, he held a new trinket, smaller than the others, of a fox. 

His mask had come free and lay scattered on the bed amongst the other carvings he had given her. Blushing, with a sheepish smile, he turned to the open door. 

“Lilah,” he said, slowly, “What are you doing back so early? It's barely past midnight.”

“What am I doing?” she exploded, blocking the doorway with her arm so he couldn't escape. “This is my home! What are _you_ doing here?” Asra looked longingly over her shoulder at the door, then sighed, collapsing onto the end of her bed, head in his hands. 

He was wearing the same thing he always wore to the Masquerade. An ill-fitting shirt covered by a rich, purple scarf tied from his shoulder to his waist. Only his mask was new, carved with intricate curves to match the curls of his hair where it fell loose. His boots were still glistening wet from his water show at the palace. 

“I came to give you this,” he said, rolling the fox statue in his hands. Once she was sure he wasn't going to run, Delilah went to sit beside him, examining the carving in his hand.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Delilah couldn't have been sure he was, but the look on his face told her that she had been right. Swallowing hard, he pushed his hair back from his face to look at Delilah properly. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't want to. But my friend- Muriel- he told me it was dangerous to be friends with you. That it's not really friendship if we only see each at the Masquerade anyway. He said I should just forget about you.” Asra’s eyes flicked away, but after a moment to gather himself, he returned eye contact with Delilah. Trying to show that he was being honest. She appreciated the sentiment. “But I couldn't stay away. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to share everything with you. Even if I wanted to give you these, I thought if I just didn't see you, I'd be able to bear it.”

Delilah took in what he said silently, and remained silent after he finished talking for what felt like an eternity. He watched her as she considered what to say, the nervous energy thrumming from him tangibly. Then, with a massive sigh, Delilah collapsed back onto her bed, careful not to knock her head on any of the trinkets. Asra raised his eyebrows, following her movements with his head.

“I suppose there's nothing for it,” she said, trying her best to sound dejected. Hurt flashed across Asra’s face, but he bore it well, tensing his shoulders as if for a blow. Delilah reached up to undo her mask, but before she could start to unite the knot, Asra came forwards and brushed her hands away to do it himself. As he worked, Delilah continued, “I'll guess we’ll just have to go out together.” 

Asra’s hands fumbled. “What?” he sputtered.

“I mean, after the Masquerade. We’ll have to hang out if that’s the only way for us to be friends. Though I really thought we were friends already, Asra.” Delilah affected a pout, but couldn't keep it up when Asra looked so comically shocked. His lips were parted in a near perfect ‘O’, his jaw slack.

“I-” Asra began, then cut himself off. A smile split his face apart and with a huff of relieved laughter, he dropped down onto the bed beside Delilah. She heard a hollow sound as his head hit the edge of his mask, but he seemed unaffected, turning to face Delilah. “I'm so glad. I didn't want to have to keep sneaking in here for the rest of the week.” 

Rolling her eyes, Delilah shoved his shoulder, stifling her own laughter behind her hand. “How did you even get in?”

Winking, Asra sat up, leaning over Delilah. His hair hung like a curtain over their faces, cutting them off from the revelry just beyond the door. “A magician never tells their secrets,” he teased. Delilah made to push him again, but Asra rolled out of the way, leaping to his feet. With a flourish, he retrieved his mask and held out his hand for Delilah. “Come on, we still have a bit of time before sunrise. Want to borrow a gondola and see the fireworks?” 

Snorting, Delilah let him pull her to her feet. As he re-tied his mask, Delilah put up all her statues over her bed and fixed her outfit. “Don’t you ever stop to rest?”

Asra’s smile was lopsided and bright as he hooked his arm through Delilah’s, leading her out of the shop. “Why would I want to waste a single, precious moment with you?” he returned, expression warm and moonlit and just a little bit lovesick.


End file.
